


Weather'd Every Rack

by inlovewithnight



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-21
Updated: 2006-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight





	Weather'd Every Rack

It’s like being on the flight deck again.

There’s dust in the air, and there are a lot more explosions going off around him than even during the worst battles with the Cylons up in space, but the yelling, the running on reflex and adrenaline, the chaos swirling around him like a wildfire, those are the same. And just like when he was on the flight deck, Tyrol finds that he’s calmer than he has any right to be, that the pounding of his heart isn’t slowing down his brain, that he can get things done in the middle of this fire without getting burned.

Nice to know he’s still got that.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind is wondering if Cally and Nicholas are safely aboard their ship, if Anders and his gang have successfully cleared out the detention center, if the Cylons are prepping nukes right now. Most of him is focused on getting from point to point, helping the people who fall to get up again, completing the mission.

And another little tiny part of him he wishes would shut the frak up is wondering if Adama’s thinking about what that old ship can actually handle before he gives the orders. If whoever took over Tyrol’s job is remembering to keep an eye on the structural integrity of section 652. If anyone’s been checking those gimbals on Sharon’s old Raptor, the ones that really _did_ have a problem sometimes, just not as often as she claimed they did, back in the...

Another bomb goes off and he ducks his head against the blowback of dirt and stone. Can’t think about Galactica now. Can’t spare a thought for what this insane plan is going to do to her. No time, and not his job anymore. He’s got to take care of his people. Got to get them out.

The roar of the sonic boom almost knocks him off his feet. He looks up at the sky, they all look up at the sky, and Galactica is falling. Galactica is burning--no, the atmo is burning, he reminds himself, not the ship itself... _herself._ There’s no part of that ship that’s not feminine, a temperamental woman who needs to be talked to gently, and is anyone talking to her gently up there as she falls through the sky, or are they trying to muscle her through it?

It hurts, watching her falling like that. He’s surprised for an instant, before that feeling recognizes its own uselessness and disappears. Of course it hurts. The Vipers launch and he hears his people shouting, pointing at them as they streak across the sky, but he can’t take his eyes off the shape of Galactica, his girl, falling through fire.

 _I’ve got to get up there and fix that,_ he thinks, a perfectly calm thought, the kind he had back on the flight deck when a pilot would drop a wounded Viper screaming into a bay and come out of the cockpit demanding to be back in the air in five minutes. Ignore the screaming, ignore the hurt, assess the situation, do what needs to be done. And he needs to get back up there and fix all the damage that that fiery fall is doing.

 _Gods, Adama, she’s not built for this kind of thing, get her the frak out of here._

There’s a flash of light as she makes her FTL jump, and Tyrol blinks hard to clear his eyes, swallows, and starts shouting at his gang to move. His body does it all on reflex, instinct, what has to be done. His mind is up there in space where Galactica is floating wounded. Needing repair.

He’ll be with her as soon as he can.  



End file.
